


Ezri Dax in the role of Fifth Business

by Allemande



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Literature, Lovers to Friends, M/M, which mirrors Life and vice versa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6583195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allemande/pseuds/Allemande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"And you must have Fifth Business because he is the one who knows the secret of the hero's birth, or comes to the assistance of the heroine when she thinks all is lost, or keeps the hermitess in her cell, or may even be the cause of somebody's death if that is part of the plot."</i><br/>In which Ezri is much quicker on the uptake than Julian when it comes to his feelings about Garak, and finds help in books to figure out her own role in all of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I just found on my computer. Never posted it because I got sidetracked by another one in the middle of it, I think... oops.
> 
> Written, as you will no doubt find out, after I'd read Robertson Davies's excellent novel _Fifth Business_. You don't need to have read it to understand the concept, though. But I highly recommend it anyway. ;-)

Ezri had decided to steer clear of Garak for a while. When he had called her “pathetic” and said in no uncertain terms that she was unfit to be Jadzia’s successor, he had, of course, voiced her fears more clearly and precisely than even the counselor back on Trill had managed.  
  
But patients with severe phobias didn’t get better overnight just because you’d found the core of the problem.  
  
“Bashir to Dax. Could you come to sickbay? I’m having a little trouble with Garak.”  
  
“I’ll be there right away.” With a last quizzical look at the couch, standing in the middle of her new office (would her patients like a view of the stars or not? she simply couldn’t decide), she left.  
  
It was still so strange to walk the maze of corridors on DS9 – confusing to any newcomers, yet so familiar to her. And still, everything looked different, if only because Jadzia had been quite a bit taller.  
  
“Thanks for coming,” Bashir greeted her. “I’ve been having trouble getting him to stay.”  
  
“I am _fine_.” Garak sounded quite exasperated. “Your mothering is touching, Doctor, but it is really quite unnecessary. I had a minor episode, Lieutenant,” he said, turning to Dax, “but I feel fine now.”  
  
“He won’t even let me give him anything for his blood pressure,” Bashir complained.  
  
“I see no reason why I should let you pump me full of medicine when we all know perfectly well that the cause of my problem is psychological,” Garak replied testily.  
  
“The cause may be psychological, but the effect is very much a physical one!”  
  
“Oh _please_ , Doctor –”  
  
“Guys,” Ezri said, holding up her hands, smiling slightly. “I think we can all agree on cause and effect. And as for the remedy, I would suggest  Garak decide for himself whether he needs artificial tranquilizers or not. _If_ you promise us not to be too proud when you do need something, Garak.” She gave him the sweetest smile she could muster under his gaze.  
  
“Very well, Lieutenant,” he said, giving her that scarily polite smile that she now knew he used to hurt more than to placate.  
  
“Hope you know what you’re doing,” Julian shrugged when Garak had left.  
  
Ezri hoped so too.

* * *

  
_“Hello Garak. Sorry it’s taken me so long to get in touch. Things have been a little crazy over here. Lots and lots of wounded to take care of, and the Federation took a little longer than I would have liked to send me more nurses and assistant doctors._  
  
_As if that weren’t enough, we’ve had a few diplomatic issues as well – for example, it took them ages to instate Kira as the temporary commander of Deep Space Nine. You wouldn’t think so, she’s been in command before after all, but now that nobody knows for sure when Captain Sisko will be back…_  
  
_Actually, it just occurred to me that you weren’t here when that happened, though you may have heard about it already. Captain Sisko was taken by the Prophets, at least that’s how the Bajorans describe it. Nobody really knows what happened, he just went off to Bajor right after we’d returned to DS9, saying that he knew what he had to do. All anyone knows is that Kai Winn went missing, and there’s some talk going on about a false advisor who went missing with her and about the Pah-Wraiths, who are supposed to be the enemies of the prophets. I guess we’ll have to wait for Captain Sisko to come back and tell us all about it._  
  
_Anyway, here I go rambling on. Tell me how you are. And don’t worry about offending my Federation optimism. It would be good to hear from you.”_

* * *

  
  
“Ah, hello Lieutenant,” Garak greeted Ezri as they bumped into each other in the replimat a few weeks later. “I never saw Jadzia here at lunchtime.”  
  
That was the first time since she’d arrived on DS9, Ezri thought, that anyone had said Jadzia’s name without a second’s hesitation.  
  
“No, she preferred the Klingon place,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Or Quark’s. I thought I’d try a few other places out for myself.” She noticed him craning his neck as they stood in the queue for the replicators. “Looking for anyone?”  
  
“Doctor Bashir,” Garak said. “This used to be our lunch appointment.”  
  
“Right. Well, I think he’s pretty busy with the people from the Institute, you know?”  
  
“Ah yes. The Institute.”  
  
Their food ordered, they found themselves a table.  
  
“Have you, ah, met the people from the Institute?” Garak inquired.  
  
“I met Sarina last night,” she said. “She came to Quark’s.”  
  
“Sarina would be the woman Doctor Bashir has helped come out of her shell?”  
  
“Yes. Hasn’t he told you about her?”  
  
“Ah, like I say, I haven’t seen much of him. Not that I’m complaining, I know he’s been very busy.”  
  
_And yet_ … Ezri thought.  
  
“He gets very absorbed in things,” she ventured. “I bet he doesn’t even realize you haven’t talked in that long.”  
  
“No,” Garak smiled. “I’m sure he doesn’t.”

* * *

  
_“Hello, Doctor. It is good to hear from you. Let me in turn apologize for the lateness of my reply._  
  
_Things have been, as you put it, crazy. It feels like we’ve been making very slow progress, although we think most people are now accounted for and have access to basic supplies. We are, of course, nowhere near the levels of efficiency which we used to be famed for, but I think that we are faring well under the circumstances. Many of the people I am now working with have had no formal training whatsoever in emergency situations or aid coordination, but are nevertheless doing what must be done. There seems to be an ingrained organisational talent in our race that one could almost be proud of._  
  
_As you can see, your Federation optimism is contagious, as I always feared it would be._  
  
_And how are you doing, aside from your work as station doctor? Who is still on Deep Space Nine?_  
  
_Not that I wish to be accused of sentimentalism about the place. I am merely making conversation.”_

* * *

  
They met in the Replimat a few times after that; whether by accident or by Garak’s design, Ezri wasn’t sure. She found that she was enjoying his company more and more, though. He was actually quite charming when he made an effort, and he seemed to be trying to make up for his hurtful words to her during the worst episodes of his claustrophobia.  
  
The day after she returned from New Sydney, he came to her office – which he seemed to reconnoitre in the two seconds it took him to step over the threshold.  
  
“Hello, Lieutenant,” he said, coming to a halt in the exact middle of the room. “I hope you had a pleasant time on New Sydney?”  
  
“I wish I could say yes,” she sighed. “Family issues.”  
  
“Ah.” Garak nodded commiseratingly. “Family can be a severe disappointment. Trust me.”  
  
“Anyway,” she said, somewhat flattered by the near-insight into his past he had granted her, “how can I help you?”  
  
“Ah.” He looked rather embarrassed. “I wonder whether you would be so kind as to remind me of that Trill breathing technique you showed me a while ago. I can’t seem to remember the correct sequence of positions, and the computer wasn’t very helpful.”  
  
“Of course,” she said, feeling both relieved to be off the topic of her family and to actually be asked for help by him. That was a huge step. She hadn’t been sure they’d ever get there.  
  
They went through the different positions then and there, and Garak took notes. Looking flustered, but actually more relaxed by the end, he thanked her.  
  
“I’ve been having a little trouble recently getting my work done,” he explained. “It’s a nuisance, to say the least, to be held up by a _ridiculous_ problem like this.”  
  
“Don’t beat yourself up over it, that’s not going to make it better,” she offered.  
  
A flash of irritation passed over his face. Of course. He hated everything to do with what he called the ‘Federation’ idea of going easy on oneself.  
  
“Okay, beat yourself up then,” she shrugged and saw him smile a little. “But trust me, you’re not going to get rid of your claustrophobia by telling yourself how stupid you are for suffering from it. If anything, it’s going to make it worse.”  
  
He gave her one of his little bows. “You’re the expert.”  
  
“Actually, while we’re at the lecture,” she said, and he obliged her by giving her an exasperated look, “I think you should probably allow yourself to take more breaks.”  
  
“And what do you propose I do?” he replied, and there was that dangerous smile again. “Spend more time sitting under a fake sunset? Play Dabo in the midst of a writhing crowd? Stroll down the Promenade and enjoy all its exciting foods and fashion?”  
  
“You could sew,” she shrugged, trying to ignore his cutting cynicism. “Or how about reading? I thought you liked that.”  
  
“I did.” He frowned. “Somehow, staring at numbers on a screen all day has left me with little appetite for novels.”  
  
“There’s a replicator in Duncan McFarland’s antiques shop that replicates actual books.”  
  
“Hm. Perhaps that would be an option.”  
  
“You could also spend some more time with Doctor Bashir,” she ventured, keeping her expression carefully neutral.  
  
“Yes. Well. We’ve both been rather busy lately and haven’t seen so much of each other. But,” and here Garak seemed to be making a conscious effort to revert to his typical reserved cheerfulness, “I will give your suggestions some thought, Lieutenant. Thank you.” And he left her office.  
  
Ezri shook her head at the closed door, frowning.

* * *

  
_“Hello again, Garak. Very good to hear from you. I guess I should start off by apologizing for passing on the optimism virus. I’ll let you know if I ever find a cure for that one._  
  
_I’m glad to hear that things are moving along, if not as quickly as you’d like. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like over there. Not that you’ve given me a lot to go on, but I’m not surprised. I don’t suppose there’s any sense in asking you what position you’re working in now? I don’t think there’s been any official announcement yet about any sort of interim government, has there? I’ve been checking the news, but it’s all – well, you would say that it’s very much from a Federation perspective, so it’s mainly about all the aid forces we’re sending there. Are there enough of those, by the way?_  
  
_To answer your question about who is still on Deep Space Nine: There are a lot of new faces. Many Federation and Bajoran staff have left, most of them because they lost someone in the war, I think. Of the officers, there’s just – oh, I guess you’ve heard that Worf is now the Federation ambassador to Qo’noS? And Odo has gone back to the Great Link. And I think I told you about Miles leaving for Earth. So yeah, it’s just Kira, Ezri and me now. Feels pretty strange._  
  
_Anyway, I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”_

* * *

  
The next time Ezri saw Garak, he was sitting in the Replimat with Julian. She smiled and retreated cautiously so as not to disturb them. So Garak had somehow managed to overcome his pride and approach Julian again; that was good news.  
  
Unfortunately, Julian spotted her just before she turned the corner and called out to her, asking her to join them. With a short glance at Garak, who was all smiles, she sat down.  
  
“Can’t stay for long,” she offered, “I have an appointment in twenty minutes.”  
  
“Ah yes, the morale officer at work,” Julian smiled. “How’s your new position as station counselor working out for you then?”  
  
“Are you trying to counsel _me_ now?” she shot back, and Julian laughed.  
  
“Well, someone’s got to do it. You can’t very well counsel yourself.”  
  
“Oh, you’d be surprised.”  
  
He smiled at her, and though she was relieved to find that he wasn’t going for the aggressively flirty look anymore, he did seem to enjoy her company, and warmth spread through her at the realization. Maybe being Jadzia’s successor wasn’t going to be so hard after all.  
  
“And how are you?” she turned to Garak, who had been studying them silently.  
  
“Fine, thank you,” he smiled. “Lots of work to do. And yes, I have been trying to follow your suggestions.”  
  
“So I see,” she smiled back.  
  
There was a flash of something dangerous in his eyes, quickly replaced by that ever-friendly smile. “Well, I had better get back to it,” he said, getting up. “Have a good day, Doctor, Lieutenant – I’ll be seeing you.”  
  
As Garak walked off, Julian engaged her in conversation immediately. Ezri was sure Garak had noted that, too.

* * *

  
_“Me again. I discovered a fantastic 20th century Earth writer the other day, his name is Robertson Davies. I started reading this novel the other day and was thinking you might like the style. I’ve attached the file._  
  
_If you’re in no mood to discuss literature, just ignore this message.”_

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

Any reflections Ezri might have had about her new relationships with old/new friends, or the relations between them, were blotted out completely when Worf went missing. She suddenly found there was nothing more important than rescuing her ex-husband / friend / colleague. (Oh, it was so tiring figuring out the correct labels for people!)  
  
The question of the correct label for them didn’t get easier on Goralis, of course, and their complicated situation was so much in the forefront of her mind that her realization about Julian took her completely by surprise.  
  
_“He is a child.”_ Worf’s words still rang in her ears when she walked along the Promenade one day, on her way to the Andorian Fast Food place (it was far from the Replimat and she really couldn’t deal with bumping into Julian right now).  
  
All right, so he was pretty young. But so was she. In a way. And it wasn’t as though Worf knew Julian as well as she did. He was actually full of surprises when you got to know him. The fact that someone with his past had remained so optimistic, so full of wonder and hope, was actually pretty fascinating.  
  
_And_ , yeah, all right, he was handsome. Not that that should matter. But Ezri suddenly realized how attracted she was to him – more so than Jadzia had ever been, if she remembered correctly. (For some reason, it was really tricky trying to figure out the romantic interests of your direct predecessor.)  
  
Maybe she should try spending a little more time with him, she thought as she retraced her steps distractedly, having gone straight past the Andorian place twice. Or maybe –  
  
“Ah, Lieutenant.” It was Garak, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.  
  
“Garak,” she greeted him. “Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. How are you?”  
  
“Fine, thank you. And yourself?”  
  
She shrugged, then cursed herself for not being able to hide her troubles. She’d always been too honest for her own good. “I’m okay.”  
  
“Glad to see you made it back in one piece,” he smiled. “Aren’t you eating at the Replimat today?”  
  
“Uh… no, I felt like something else,” she stuttered, and she could see him studying her closely. “How about you then? Aren’t you meeting Doctor Bashir?”  
  
He tilted his head ever so slightly, and she knew he was wondering, just like her, why she hadn’t called him ‘Julian’.  
  
“Not today. I have a delivery to make.” He held up a piece of cloth. “I’ve been doing a little sewing in my spare time.”  
  
“Good,” she smiled. “The counselor approves.”  
  
He gave a little bow. “That is what I strive for.”  
  
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on her, and she rolled her eyes for his benefit.  
  
As he said goodbye to her, quite cheerfully, she wondered whether she hadn’t imagined it all. That would make things easier, for sure.  


* * *

  
_“You are, my dear Doctor, as astute as ever in your observations. The news about Cardassia that you get to hear is indeed heavily influenced by a Federation perspective. But be that as it may – yes, I think we have enough Federation forces at the moment. Any more may seriously damage the Cardassian ego, and as I’m sure Deep Space Nine’s morale officer will confirm, this would do us greater damage in the long run than not having enough food replicators._  
  
_You are correct, also, in that there has been no official announcement as to the nature of our current political organization. Frankly, I am not sure I could describe it to you if I tried. It seems to be a case of ‘every man to the fore who is willing to help and either qualified or eager to learn’, all of it with a disconcerting lack of hierarchy as of now. Damar dying left us with an unfortunate power vacuum that nobody – so far – has tried to fill._  
  
_But I am sure some sort of hierarchy will be established soon. This is no long-term solution for Cardassians, and I think we are all beginning to feel it._  
  
_As to the other part of your message: Thank you for your consideration, but as a matter of fact I would enjoy resuming our talks about literature very much. There is little else here to take my mind off things._  
  
_I have read what you sent me, to my great surprise in one night. I do not remember your suggestions being so detrimental to my health. – Ah, I see I am being called away. I will have to give you a full feedback another time._  
  
_Let me just say for now that I enjoyed Mr Davies’s unique style and his great eye for detail. Naturally, I do not approve of his character’s irreverence towards his family (but that was to be expected from a Human) nor do I have much patience for the worship of saints (although we do have our fair share of myths)._  
  
_I was thoroughly intrigued by the concept which gave the novel its title: The narrator describing people as no more than characters in a play, and realizing that his own fate is not to be the principal character but the one who brings together those who are – in short, what he calls Fifth Business – that was very interesting._  
  
_Thank you, Doctor. Now I must go.”_  


* * *

  
Ezri was suffering like she hadn’t suffered in a long time. She was head over heels in love, and all her eight lifetimes told her that it wasn’t anything new and provided her with plenty of ideas on how to approach the matter – but somehow, none of them seemed right for her. It was new. It was her, Ezri, who was in love, and she realized now that she hadn’t felt this way in ten years (not since New Sydney and Norvo’s best friend Fonar).  
  
As she sat in her office, trying (against all better judgment) to analyze herself, she realized that it wasn’t just her feelings and the intense awkwardness of running into Julian she was having to deal with, but also (again) her own insecurities about being a worthy Dax. She remembered how much Jadzia had always felt at ease in her own romantic adventures. And Curzon had been an old heart-breaker, in his way. And, and, and… It was infuriating.  
  
To top it all off, the only one she could talk to was Worf. Not that she wasn’t very happy they were friends now – but he wasn’t exactly helpful when it came to Julian.  
  
The night before Kira, Odo and Garak’s departure to wherever it was Damar’s Resistance was hiding, Ezri sat with Worf at Quark’s, trying to focus on what was important. Surely, the fact that her friends and colleagues were departing on a dangerous mission should be foremost in her mind. Instead, she found herself mulling over her last encounter with Julian (they’d barely spoken five words altogether and he’d looked at her strangely when she’d made up an excuse as to why she was going the other way).  
  
“I thought you said you wanted to talk to him,” Worf said, after they’d been silent for a while.  
  
“Well, making the decision and actually going through with it are two different things,” she shrugged. “And yeah, Jadzia was way better at this. You don’t need to tell me.”  
  
Worf stared into his drink moodily, and she took his hand. “Sorry. I’m an idiot.”  
  
“Stop calling yourself that,” he said, in that gruff tone in which nobody but her ever seemed to hear the gentleness. “You are just a little insecure, that is all.”  
  
She smiled – and stopped as she saw Kira, Garak and Julian coming up the stairs, towards where they were sitting. Panic arose in her. Was there enough time to flee? But no – here they were.  
  
“Ah, Lieutenant, Commander,” Garak greeted them. “May we join you? We were going to fortify ourselves before leaving for our mission tomorrow.”  
  
Worf gestured for them to sit down and gave Ezri a meaningful look, which didn’t help.  
  
As they approached and Julian made to sit down right next to her, Ezri got up on impulse. “Actually, I was just about to head off to bed. I’m really tired. Have a safe trip,” she said, nodding at Kira and Garak. Ignoring Worf’s pointed stare, and not looking at Julian altogether, she turned to leave.  
  
“Ezri,” Julian called, and her heart skipped a beat. She turned around and looked up at him, his forehead creased into a frown, his brown eyes all warmth.  
  
“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked, pulling her aside gently.  
  
“Avoiding you?” she asked. Her voice sounded more like a squeak to her.  
  
“Yes, and don’t deny it,” he smiled.  
  
“Well…” She swallowed. “The truth is –”  
  
“Sickbay to Bashir. Medical emergency in Ensign Toh’lar’s quarters.”  
  
Julian closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. “I’ll be right there.” With one last look at her, he hurried off, and Ezri breathed a sigh of relief. She chanced a look back at her friends’ table. Worf had stopped looking at her and was talking to Kira.  
  
Garak, however, was staring at her, and at the spot Julian had just stood in, in a surprisingly unguarded manner.  


* * *

  
_“I’m worried about you, Garak. Your last message was far too informative. I’ve almost got a clear idea of what things are like right now. Are you sure you’re okay?_  
  
_Putting that aside, though, I hope your difficult political situation will be resolved soon. I’m sure it will make things easier as soon as you’ve established a clear structure. DS9’s morale officer confirms that this would be healthier for you and says hi, by the way._  
  
_I’m very glad to hear you enjoyed reading Fifth Business. There are two sequels if you’d like to read on. There’s more of that ‘great eye for detail’ in there. Which to me, by the way, sometimes feels more like not getting to the point. But we’ve been down this road before…_  
  
_I’ve been meaning to ask you, how are things on Cardassia Prime from a medical point of view? Are there enough doctors, enough supplies? I hope there aren’t any new viral or bacterial infections. Unfortunately, post-war zones (sorry about the heartless term) can be a breeding ground for those. If there’s anything I can do from here, please let me know. I’ll be happy to provide any assistance I can.”_  


* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

The war between the Dominion and the Federation was over, at the cost of millions of lives, and Ezri Dax was trying to combat her jealousy.  
  
She’d been down with the others, administering first aid and clearing out the command centre so that a basic aid infrastructure could be established. They’d all worked for at least six hours straight, and there was still a lot to be done. But they couldn’t stay; the peace treaty had been drawn up and they were all to attend on the _Defiant_ ; then they had to get back to Deep Space Nine, which would now be one of the main go-to places for repairs and much-needed leave.  
  
They’d all beamed back up, therefore, except for Julian, who’d stayed behind a little longer to talk to Garak. And this was what worried her.  
  
Ezri knew Julian loved her. He’d said so two nights ago, and again last night, and it was written all over his face whenever he looked at her.  
  
But _she_ hadn’t been around as long as _he_ had.  
  
Julian came back soon, however, looking a little sad, but also glad to see her, and as they lay in bed that night while the Defiant sped back towards DS9, she forgot all about her worries, lost in the absolute bliss of being with the one she loved, and grateful for the miracle of their both having survived this war.

* * *

  
_“Hello Garak. Just wanted to check in with you. I listened to my last message again and am suddenly worried that I may have offended you, either with the bit about Robertson Davies not getting to the point, or with calling Cardassia a post-war zone. If so, I’m sorry. It’s always tricky communicating across a distance._  
  
_Hope to hear from you soon.”_

* * *

  
Ezri closed the book and stared out at the stars for a full ten minutes before she could bring herself to move.  
  
Finally, she shook herself and went to take a sonic shower.  
  
It was so silly, really, identifying with a character in a book, she thought as she closed her eyes under the shower. Real people were much more complex than fictional characters. And yet, for some reason, this character – or rather the concept behind him – mirrored so well what she’d been feeling for some time now, seemed to signal to her what her life really was. At least with regard to two of the other characters in it.  
  
_“But you cannot make a plot work without another man, and he is usually a baritone, and he is called in the profession Fifth Business, because he is the odd man out, the person who has no opposite of the other sex. And you must have Fifth Business because he is the one who knows the secret of the hero's birth, or comes to the assistance of the heroine when she thinks all is lost, or keeps the hermitess in her cell, or may even be the cause of somebody's death if that is part of the plot.”_  
  
Ezri was pretty sure she was no baritone, but she was becoming equally sure – more and more so – that she was not meant to be the central character in this story.

* * *

  
_“Hello Garak. I hope you received my last message. Can you reply to let me know you’re okay? I haven’t heard from you in ten days. I know you’re probably just very busy, but – yeah, well, put it down to Humans who worry too much._  
  
_Hope to hear from you soon.”_

* * *

  
 “Julian, we need to talk.”  
  
He hummed as he stared at his PADD, evidently still absorbed in his work. “What is it, darling?”  
  
She swallowed, gathering all her resolve. She’d let this go on long enough. During their last subspace conversation, Worf had called it ‘dishonourable’ to wait any longer just to keep Julian with her, and for once she was tempted to agree with him.  
  
“You’re not happy.”  
  
Julian looked up from his PADD, frowning, and opened his mouth.  
  
“No, let me finish,” she said. “I’m not saying you’ve done anything wrong. You’re always very sweet to me, and I know you love me. But it’s not enough. And I think that deep down, you know it’s not.”  
  
Julian stared at her. She saw the question quite clearly in his eyes. _How can you possibly know this?_  
  
“I’m a therapist, Julian.” She rolled her eyes. “Just because I love you it doesn’t mean I’m blind to how you actually feel.”  
  
He put his PADD away and chewed on his lower lip for a moment. Then he said, looking down at the floor, “I want to make this work. I really do. But somehow I’m never entirely…”  
  
He shook his head, then he looked up at her. “It’s just me, Ezri. It’s my weird mind. I’m never completely happy. There’s always some doubt niggling away at me. It’s always been like this, in every relationship I’ve been in. Doesn’t mean I’m not happy though.” He took her hands. “I _love_ you.”  
  
“I know you do.” She fought back tears.  
  
This was even worse than she’d imagined it. But loving someone, she reminded herself, was wanting what was best for them, not for yourself.  
  
“I don’t think you’re incapable of being completely happy in a relationship,” she said. “I just think you haven’t met the right person yet.”  
  
She hesitated. Was this the right moment? But he had to be confronted with this. “Actually, to be precise, you haven’t _been_ with the right person yet.”  
  
He blinked. “What?”  
  
She stood up, unable to bear this proximity anymore. “Julian, I love you, and that means I want what’s best for you. I wish it could work out between us, but... I think you already belong to someone else.”  
  
Julian shook his head, looking completely bewildered. “Ezri, what on earth are you talking about?”  
  
“Think about it. Think about who the most important person in the universe is to you, the one you’d like to spend every minute of your life with.” Unable to fight her tears anymore, she hurried out of his quarters.  
  
~~~  
  
“Trouble at home?” Quark asked as he poured her third drink. “Haven’t seen you and Doctor Bashir together in here for days.”  
  
Ezri sighed. “I’m not sure. We need a little room to work things out.”  
  
“It’s only been two months,” Quark said, and she thought she probably knew what he was thinking: _Should have gone out with me instead._  
  
“And it’s been wonderful. But some things…” She stopped herself. She’d been about to say that some things weren’t meant to be. But she didn’t know that yet, did she? Julian hadn’t given her any sign that her suspicions were correct. And what if they weren’t?  
  
A wild hope rose in the pit of her stomach. What if she was wrong, what if he _did_ love only her and just needed some time to get used to a proper relationship? What if –  
  
But no. That look on his face last week when he’d said he’d lost contact with him...  
  
“Talk of the devil,” Quark muttered, and she looked up.  
  
Julian stood next to her, and she knew from the look on his face that he’d had the epiphany she’d had weeks – months – before him.  
  
That it was over.  
  
They looked at each other for a long moment. Then they walked out of Quark’s side by side.  
  
“You’ve been doing some thinking,” she said.  
  
“Ezri… I wish…”  
  
She stopped. “Look. I know you don’t want to hurt me. But either way – what I mean to say is I do want to help you figure this out. So tell me what you’ve found out.”  
  
They walked for a moment in silence, then stopped on the upper floor, looking out at the stars.  
  
“I’m in love with him,” Julian said, staring into what Ezri knew must be the direction of Cardassia.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Ezri, I…” He looked at her, and she saw the pain of the days to come reflected in his eyes. “You have to believe me that I had absolutely no idea.”  
  
She smiled. “I know you didn’t. Took me a while to realize how I felt about you, too. These things happen.”  
  
“But…” Julian shook his head. “I’ve known him for _years_. How could I not realize this?”  
  
“Is that a rhetorical question?”  
  
He looked at her in surprise. “Why, do you have an answer?”  
  
“I’ve got a few,” she shrugged. “One of them would be that he’s a man, and you’ve only ever been with women, from what you’ve told Jadzia and me.”  
  
“But… I never considered myself as completely heterosexual.” He frowned. “Well. It’s probably more accurate to say that I never really thought about it at all.”  
  
“Which can sometimes be the same thing as not considering it for yourself,” she shrugged. “Emony fell in love with a woman once and was pretty shocked by how much resistance there was in her against the idea of that.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” It felt unreal, this conversation. It was as though they were back to being good friends, discussing the future of one of his romantic interests. But there was no going back now.  
  
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Sorry. Half-truth again. I think I need to go to Cardassia and find out what happened to him.”  
  
She nodded. “I think so too.”  
  
“Ezri.” He turned to her, and she saw that he had tears in his eyes.  
  
Oh, unfair. When she’d been holding them back so successfully.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and took her in his arms, and they both cried.

* * *

  
_“Hello Doctor. My surprise at receiving a message from you sent from the Cardassian capital was only surpassed by my delight._  
  
_I am attaching the itinerary from Starfleet emergency quarters to my current living quarters. I will be there tonight at approximately 3 hours past sunset._  
  
_Do bring along that bottle of wine.”_

* * *

  
When Ezri got a message from Julian two weeks later, it was to warn her that he was coming to the station briefly to pick up his things. It also said that he would understand if she preferred to avoid seeing him.  
  
In the end, she opted for a more adult approach.  
  
“Hi, Julian,” she said, standing in his office in sickbay where he was packing up his personal belongings.  
  
When he turned around to face her, she felt an almost physical shock.  
  
“Wow,” she said. “So _this_ is you.”  
  
“What do you mean?” He frowned.  
  
She smiled. Somehow, seeing him like this, knowing that she’d been absolutely right, took some of the edge off the pain.  
  
“You just… you look like someone who’s found himself.”  
  
Her words produced an instinctive smile. He suppressed it quickly, a guilty look in his eye, and nodded. “Yeah. I guess that’s what I feel like.”  
  
“So you found him then.”  
  
He nodded again.  
  
“Was he all right?” She was surprised to find that she actually cared. She would have to look into these self-destructive tendencies of hers. “You were worried about losing contact with him for a while.”  
  
“He was fine. He told me he just found it difficult to…” He shook his head, looking stricken. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear this.”  
  
“Difficult to hold on to the person he felt he belonged to while being back on the planet he belonged?” she guessed.  
  
He narrowed his eyes. “Were you spying on us or something?”  
  
She grinned. “Nope. I’m just really good at this whole psychology thing.”  
  
He laughed and approached her. “Ezri, I…" His look grew serious. "I hope you know that I would never have put you through this if I’d realized…”  
  
“I know.” She smiled and hugged him.  
  
Theirs was not the relationship that was meant to be. She was not meant to be the protagonist in this story, but what Robertson Davies would have called Fifth Business.  
  
And that was okay. Or it would be, in a while.  
  
_“The prima donna and the tenor, the contralto and the basso, get all the best music and do all the spectacular things, but you cannot manage the plot without Fifth Business! It is not spectacular, but it is a good line of work, I can tell you, and those who play it sometimes have a career that outlasts the golden voices.”_  
  
Yes, her career would outlast theirs, and she would get over this and move on.

* * *

  
_“Julian – according to reliable sources, you have boarded the_ USS Bratislava _, which is now on its way to Cardassia and will arrive in approximately five hours. Once you arrive, make sure to go straight to my quarters, where a rather spectacular dinner awaits you.”_

* * *

  
  
_**T** **he End  
**_


End file.
